


By Any Other Name

by MahoganyDoodles



Series: By Any Other Name [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Day 5: Another Time/Another Life, F/M, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, GingerRose Week 2020, Humor, Meet-Cute, Modern AU, Well really a hybrid of meet cute and meet ugly, because when don't things get disastrous when reylo is involved, prequel fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24188002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahoganyDoodles/pseuds/MahoganyDoodles
Summary: “Here we are, your highness.” She leans across to thumb the lock, grabbing the handle and shoving the door open. He tries not to think about how her somehow still sweaty arm had just brushed across the leg of his trousers. “Let this be a reminder that this is where buying foreign gets you.”He scoffs, already halfway out of the seat. “You haven’t even seen my car to know what brand it is.”She grins. “Don’t have to, your suit says it for you.”
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: By Any Other Name [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749868
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29
Collections: GingerRoseWeek2020





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to give a BIG big thank you to [Ngoc12thefangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ngoc12thefangirl/pseuds/Ngoc12thefangirl) for beta-ing this piece and running the whole ship week!
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MahoganyDoodles) and Discord under the same name!

His day starts with a blown transmission. 

Because of fucking _course_ it does.

It’s 8 o’clock, the first early evening that he’s left the office in _weeks_ and instead of the relaxing ride home that he’d been expecting, he’s staring at the block of immobile metal that is his Mercedes Finalizer. He grits his teeth, considering just taking an Uber home and dealing with this shit tomorrow before deciding to punch in the number of the last person he wants to speak to right now instead. Two rings later, he’s rewarded.

“Hux?” a deep voice answers. “I thought you said you were coming back early. Did the depositions for the Bothan case take longer than expected?”

“Ren—”

“Ben.”

“—I need you to pick me up.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. The cold had eaten at his phone, and where he had left the office with 83 percent, his phone’s now dropped to 12. He needs to make this quick.

“...my car broke down.”

“Ah. So why didn’t you call the mechanic to get you?”

“I called three.” Just another of the many, unending, stars-aligned-to-fuck-up-his-evening caveats that had put him in this position. “There was a multi-vehicle accident on the motorway and none of them can collect my car for at least an hour and a half.”

“Hm. Okay.” Another pause. “Still at the office?”

Well where the fuck else would he be? Ren takes his silence for affirmation. “I’ll be there in ten.”

 _Seventeen_ cold, battery-draining minutes later a silver TIE Silencer stops in front of him and he stomps to the other side, yanking the door open with a growl. His arms wrap around his briefcase as he turns, preparing to unleash a barrage of _well if you were going to take this long_ when something catches his eye. “Why the fuck are there towels covering your backseat?”

They’re already pulling away from the curb when the doors automatically lock and Ren responds, “We’re picking up Rey from her kickboxing class.”

“Oh for the love of—” He bites his tongue. This day had gone from bad to worse, but he won’t give that little scavenger the satisfaction of being the part that breaks him.

Beside him, Ren’s lips tighten and Hux can tell that he’s trying to hold back a smile because he’s enjoying this, isn’t he, the bastard, and so he stews in silence until they pull up at a storefront in a strip mall of all places.

The sweat-laden urchin is already waiting outside when they park; she pushes off the wall she’s been leaning against, makes her way to the driver side, and who the fuck just opened the door behind him—

The glee in Ren’s voice is unmistakable when he says, “Oh, I forgot to mention Rose. She’s Rey’s friend; I’m sure the two of you will get along great.”

Steam is pouring from his ears and Ren is lucky there are witnesses because Hux swears, he is _this close_ to strangling him.

Somehow, against all odds, he manages to keep the rage that is threatening to bubble over in check while Ren starts the car and starts down a path that is most certainly the _opposite_ direction of their apartment. From the backseat, the friend (Lily or Violet or some shit like that, he can’t remember) keeps up a constant stream of chatter about the other students in the class and then about some phen-fucking-nomenal cylinder that she found and then about some other topic that makes his head ache and reaffirms his decision that if he is ever faced with this situation again he would call an Uber immediately, no questions asked.

His nose wrinkles—and that stench. 

“Knock knock, paging Mr. Suit.”

His eyes shoot up to the rearview mirror. To the left, Ren’s girlfriend’s head is pressed against the back of his seat—fat load of good those towels on the backseat were doing for the sweat stains she was surely leaving against his headrest—but to the right, a pair of bright, dark eyes meet his. 

“You said something, but I didn’t catch it. Something wrong?”

He almost takes a deep breath, before reminding himself that such an action would be a disservice to his nose. “Not at all. I was simply wondering if you two weren’t in the habit of showering after you exercise.”

She bristles. “Shower at the gym and get some kind of foot fungus? No thank you, Rey and I have a shower at home that functions perfectly well, thank you very much.”

Ah, so they were roommates. That would explain why they were both so remarkably unhygienic. Slobs attract slobs, and so on. He’s just about to open his mouth to retort when Ren slams on the brakes and shifts into park. 

His roommate is already opening the door and clambering out the car when he comes to his senses. He twists against his seatbelt, wondering why they aren’t already back on the road to home so he can get out of this fucking nightmare. 

“Ben,” the tramp asks loudly, “can you help me move this dresser quickly? It’ll only take a minute,” and just like that they’re off, leaving Hux in the passenger seat and cursing the sudden turn of events yet again.

“You can’t actually tell me you’re surprised by this.”

The sound of her voice makes him jerk around to peer out the window, where smooth forearms rest on the roof and she looks down on him, eyebrow raised and a grin spread across her face.

“Surprised by what?”

“That they were a little otherwise occupied. They went upstairs to have sex; they’re not gonna be back down anytime soon. You can’t seriously tell me you didn’t notice her giving him the reacharound the whole ride home; they’re total horndogs and not subtle about it.”

Why no. He had not noticed. And why had she informed him? Was she trying to scar him with that mental image, when he’d already seen more than enough of Kylo Ren naked in college, thank you very much. Now she had continued his trauma with, he shudders, an image of Ren mid-coitus.

A rap against his window breaks him from his train of thought. 

“C’mon. You wanna get home? I’ll take you.” 

He follows the direction her thumb is pointed and his eyes nearly pop out of his head when they land on her car. It’s olive green with a yellow canvas roof. 

A yellow canvas roof that is _embroidered_ with a _lighthouse_ and _seagulls._

His fingers hit the window switch and is relieved that despite Ren taking the keys inside and leaving him stranded here, the window still glides down so he can confront this impossibly peppy and filter-less shrew head-on. 

“Why is Ren ferrying you two back and forth from class?”

“Well, ever since Rey totaled her souped up Charger, Ben’s been paranoid about her driving another modified car and keeps offering to drive her everywhere.” She rolls her eyes, still grinning. “Not that there’s anything to worry about, but will he listen when I tell him that? No.”

He glares at her. “Yes. But that doesn’t explain why you two couldn’t take _your_ car to class.”

She walks over and pats the hood of the monstrosity. “Got this baby’s engine from a rusted Bugatti EB 110 that a son brought by after his father passed away... most of the rest of it was shot, but there was a decent bit I managed to salvage.” She winks at him. “Rich guy didn’t even know what he was dropping off for scrap. You know how they are. So Ben doesn’t trust my car as far as he could throw it.”

That seemed oddly directed at him, and he’s still struggling to come up with a biting response when a _honk_ breaks him from his furious brainstorming. “Do you want a lift home?”

Even through her windshield, he can tell her eyes are glittering with challenge. He looks down at his phone. 3%. That was enough to call an Uber, and even if his phone died after he called it, there surely couldn’t be anyone else calling a rideshare to this shithole apartment complex.

Just as he opens the app, his screen goes dark. 

Shit. 

He resists the urge to slam his head against the dashboard. To get home and out of this nightmare, he could tolerate a ride with the filth merchant. Even if the gold detailing up and down the side of her car made it look like it had been previously owned by a Brooklyn grandpa that watched too many mob movies.

So with great resignation, he unbuckles his seatbelt and exits the car. Opens the door to hers, and is about to settle comfortably into the leather seat, when his knees clack against the glove compartment, long legs confined in such a small space. 

He tries to move the seat backwards. It doesn’t budge. Of course. Why would it?

One thing consoles him as the car revs to life, tearing off down a sidestreet at far more than twice the speed limit.

The passenger window of Ren’s car has been left open. 

_Good._

XXX

Surprisingly, he’s the first one to speak. 

“You work at the repair shop with Rey,” he says. 

“Mm, not exactly.” Her eyes are focused, not breaking from the road as she weaves through backstreets he’s never seen before. “I work at the kart racing track. They’re connected—same owner, same industry, just makes sense—so Rey and I work together a lot. She helps me build the karts the in-house racers use.” A devilish smile plays at her lips and she says, “If you think Ben’s worried about Rey driving modified cars, you can imagine how he’d react if he found out Rey and I test every kart on a dirt track behind the shop. Then again, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” 

_Interesting._ He tucks that information away for later use. If he ever needs to give Ren a heart attack, the knowledge that his girlfriend is drag racing go-karts on unpaved roads in the backwoods is sure to do the trick.

“So how did you end up in Ben’s car?” she asks, interrupting his calculated scheming.

“I was finishing analyzing the depositions that had been completed over the past week. When I went to leave, my car had broken down and I had to call _Ren_ for a ride. Rather than drive me home, he drove me to your fitness class and then abandoned me at your apartment complex.” He sniffs in indignation.

Her head whips towards him, but before he can yell at her to _focus on driving and not on me, you idiot,_ her eyes are already back on the road. “Back up, you were still at work at this time of night?”

He shrugs, glad her attention is no longer on to notice the motion. “Well, I finished work at eight, but yes. In fact, that’s early for me to leave the office.”

Rose whistles low. “Man you really work too hard.”

“It’s just how life goes during your first year at a firm. If we turn in fewer than ninety billable hours per week, we’re told we’re not working hard enough. Law is all about who you know. Other starting lawyers with strong familial connections still have to work, but it’s nothing compared to the amount of time I have to put in to even be noticed, no matter how many cases I win.” 

“Just because that’s how it is doesn’t mean that’s okay. Your treatment should be based on the work you do, and no one should be expected to work that much just because. Your whole industry sounds like it needs an overhaul.”

“Mm.” It’s not as if the same thoughts haven’t passed his mind before, so why is it that her simple empathy for him makes him feel more seen and understood than he has in the time since he started at Snoke & Associates? After all, emotions were second to outcomes, so why should her words make parts of him that he thought had died come back to life? Feelings were useless.

Another question interrupts his thoughts yet again. “Why are you two living together? You clearly hate each other.”

“None of your business,” he snaps. He doesn’t have to think hard to know who the other part of the two that she’s referring to is. They had gone to uni together, then law school, then started as associates together at Snoke & Palpatine. So what if they didn’t like each other? Maintaining these connections was just what was done, especially when it was one’s first year at a firm.

The gray metal of his sleek condominium building comes into view and he nearly sags with relief when she slows to a halt in the drop-off area in front of the door. 

“Here we are, your highness.” She leans across to thumb the lock, grabbing the handle and shoving the door open. He tries not to think about how her somehow _still sweaty_ arm had just brushed across the leg of his trousers. “Let this be a reminder that this is where buying foreign gets you.”

He scoffs, already halfway out of the seat. “You haven’t even seen my car to know what brand it is.”

“Don’t have to, your suit says it for you.” Her grin is the last thing he sees as she slams the door and speeds away, fading into the distance.

A sharp ache is the first thing that he registers, shaking him out of his dumbfounded stare and he unclenches his teeth, massaging his jawline with his spare hand. Every moment of that ride had been nothing short of infuriating, and her at the center of it all. 

When Ren got back from his little romp, Hux was going to _kill_ him. Comebacks and insults flood his brain, and he could have cursed. Why is it they only come to him _after_ Rose had gotten the better of him?

He looks down at his Cartier watch. Seven minutes. For a drive that should have taken thirteen. How fast had that banshee been driving and how hadn’t he noticed?

...and how the fuck did she know where he lived? 


End file.
